SHORT STORY SHAREWelcome to a new monthly installment: Short Story Share. Every month I will be sharing either my own original work or work that inspires me from other authors.

As my first offering, I give you "The Lament of the Reaper," a dark supernatural fantasy I wrote a few months back. This is a departure for me. It's dark, it's grim. I hope you enjoy it!The Lament of the Reaper“It was your fault. If you had seen the smoke sooner, your baby sister might still be here,” a sugary voice hissed. Screams that sounded just like the poor soul’s sister pierced her ears like a high-pitched siren. Finally, an anguished cry of “No. No.” permeated the oppressive air.

Then, an ever so soft, “I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen.”Octavia the demon sneered, “It’s not the Lord who will be the one taking your soul.”Of course the soul who was the object of Octavia’s taunts for years couldn’t actually hear her. She felt her and heard Zahieel the reaper’s noises to mimic her sister’s cries, her mother’s wails at her sister’s funeral, and any other noises that would evoke her most painful memories. The fact that she couldn’t see where these sounds came from heightened her fear. Her old pain was reawakened to the point where every limb trembled, and her heart throbbed in torment, which was Octavia’s aim all along. She reveled in the hapless human’s pain. Zahieel appeared to watch and participate in these scenes designed to engender madness with impassivity. Inwardly, he seethed. A reaper driving a person to madness was not part of the Natural Order he was created to maintain. Bound by his contract, he had no choice but to participate.In hundreds of years as a reaper, Zahieel did his part in keeping the Natural Order intact. Until he didn’t. On the whole, he was neutral. He was neither demon nor angel. He guided newly departed souls to their contracted destination, heaven, hell, or purgatory. His job was to cut the silver cord that connected the soul to the body and deliver the soul to its final destination. Man, woman, child, he had no mercy. The Creator deliberately designed him and the other reapers without it, just like the Angel of Death, who was the source of all reapers and their master. Zahieel had been assigned to collect thousands of souls. Some of those souls died whole and with light and others, in darkness. Neither of which was a concern of his. His job was to collect and deposit to the designated place at the designated time. None of which was ever a concern of his. Some of the dark souls he collected were dark as a result of intentional choices they made. They were murderers, rapists, or some other instrument of destruction. Others, had demons either in them or attached to them. Most dispersed at the sight of him. He found them vulgar for the most part and took very little note of them. However, when he encountered Octavia, she surprised him by standing her ground. “Hello Zahieel,” she said in that sugary tone of hers.He stopped, astonished at being addressed directly. Not only did Octavia stand her ground, she stood tall, contrary to the skulking, snivelling nature of most demons. Her form was a grotesque combination of sea creature, human, and horse. Her face resembled a human woman but the top of her head formed a webbed crown. She had webbed fingers and scaly wings jutting out from her arms. She had the torso of a woman and two legs that ended in hooves. Her skin was a deep, bluish green with texture like a snake. Only gifted humans could see her, and when they did many fell to their knees. Zahieel, on the other hand, looked almost human, except he had a shadow of gloom hanging about him and his features were thin and almost blended into one another. His hair was long and tangled. The only thing that stood out about him was his pointed and stern chin, giving him a severe look, which worked to his advantage as a reaper. No human would ever think of negotiating with him or begging for his mercy. “Who are you?” Reapers are cold and direct for the most part. Zahieel was no different.“Octavia, a lieutenant of Lucifer.”He stopped with his assigned soul at one of the gates of hell. The departed glanced at the scene in front of him, bewilderment etched in his face, as is common with most souls. The gate opened, and the soul entered, not looking back once. As Zahieel turned to go, Octavia barred his way.“Octavia, lieutenant of Lucifer, what is it that you are trying to do?”“Create a contract,” she said, matching his cool tone.“This soul has already fulfilled his contract.”“Do you fulfill your contracts, Zahieel?”“I fulfill my contracts every day.”“Good,” she said, arching an eyebrow and smirking.Zahieel cocked his head to the side, bemused by Octavia’s statement. Each soul he brought to hell was another soldier in its army, which he was sure she delighted in. Zahieel had no interest in how she felt or what amused her, and he grew tired of her quickly. “Is there anything else demon?” he said.“You must make a contract with me, reaper,” she said, glancing at the ground by his feet.Zahieel looked down. At first, all he noticed was the dark gravel he was used to seeing in his travels to this desolate place. Now, it glowed orange, illuminating a symbol. His mark resembled a triskelion: three spirals interconnected by leaves. He understood. She found a way to trap him with it. “How did you find my symbol?” “My tactics are no concern of yours. Your only concern from this moment forward is to do whatever it is I require of you.”She extended her hand to seal their agreement. He shook it, and their pact was made. He said nothing else. He understood his precarious situation in an instant. Even though he was more powerful, her knowledge of his symbol made him powerless.For the next few weeks, he helped Octavia torture various humans she entered into. She maintained her hold on each human through grief and rage. She was methodical, preying upon their worst memories to further their rage. Their inability to make peace with their past and still hold on to it was always their downfall. He had seen it thousands of times. She allowed him to maintain his list of souls to collect. Even though he had a contract with her, it didn’t supersede his contract with the Creator. Nothing and no one can interfere with contracts to the Creator. They can only work around them, which Octavia did to great effect. Zahieel bided his time and felt his way into the solution to free himself. He couldn’t sneak off to the Great Library to find clues as to how she could have procured his symbol. He knew the futility of trying when she knew who he was contracted to collect and when. An explicable absence had the potential to ruin him. She maintained a close watch on him whenever she knew he was going to heaven. She was no fool. Nor was she a lesser rival. She was far more cunning than Zahieel.Thousands of years ago, she became another in the thousands of creations of Satan, almost his child. He infused his patience into her, his cunning, his quiet malice. She possessed a sophistication Zahieel had never seen in a demon. When she spoke, her words suffused her deliberation and calm while floating into the air, causing Zahieel to utterly underestimate her. His downfall. One thing he knew he could count on was her greed. Most demons were rash and consumed by whatever insatiable desire they possessed at that moment. Not Octavia, she was patient and cunning, a true student of Satan. In spite of these strengths, she was still a demon, and her greed would surface at some point. When it did, it would give Zahieel the opportunity he needed. He just had to be patient. He had no choice. Twelve years into his contract, her greed finally surfaced.Octavia coveted one human with a particular set of gifts, Kabira. She could move objects with her mind. She could harm just with a negative look or feeling. She was just beginning to understand her gifts and her power to harm. She had much darkness in her, deliberate black magic from family members who were threatened by her. Yet, the light that was in her from the moment she was born lingered, and she was naturally drawn to it. A true battle raged for her soul. It was a battle Octavia was determined to win. One way or another. They came to Kabira when she attempted to meditate in her bedroom. The lights were off. As the room grew darker, the only light was the last rays of the setting sun seeping through the closed blinds on the windows. Since she lived by herself she had no one to immediately turn to when Octavia and Zahieel came to torture her. A steady stream of jabs over a period of years aimed right for her heart and mind. They went right to her sadness, which lingered at her core. It was the means in which Octavia came to inhabit her to begin with. The oppression in Kabira’s soul added to the darkness flooding in the room and Zahieel felt it. Octavia relished it. Zahieel observed the same human story that he had witnessed across time, across countries, across cultures. Parents who can’t handle their own lives can’t handle a child. Then, they leave that child either with others or to fend for themselves. Humans, ever inclined to place blame, often place blame on themselves. This was the case for Kabira. When they happened upon her, she was already in tears, which made their work easy for them. “They didn’t love you because you weren’t worth loving,” Octavia hissed in her ear. Kabira couldn’t see her, but her malice crept up her spine and weaved its way to the rest of her body, immobilizing her with fear. Each time it nearly suffocated her. It only exacerbated the pain in her heart, thrilling Octavia even more. “I am a good person, whether they saw it or not,” Kabira said, through sobs.“Are you? How many people have died from your very thoughts? Your curses?” Octavia said.“I’ve never killed anyone!”“Oh. But you have,” Octavia taunted.Octavia showed Kabira a vision of herself. She was driving around her supermarket, angry. Some scruffy looking man saw her trying to park but took her spot anyway. She drove past him shooting her middle finger at him. Then, she said,”I hope his car gets fucked up.”The next scene Octavia showed her was the man lying on the ground, blood on his clothes. His car tied to a tow truck totalled.Kabira flinched.“No!”Then, she ran from her bed to the window. She put her hands along the sides, looking down, eyes closed, breathing very slowly. Both Zahieel and Octavia knew where her thoughts headed.“You can end the pain, dear,” Octavia said in her softest most caring voice.For the first time in his existence, Zahieel felt disgust. Feeling one way or another is understandable when you have the luxury of feeling anything. Pretendingto feel something when you don’t is just reprehensible. Then, he remembered Octavia was a demon after all, a creature created to be reprehensible. His neutrality returned.

Kabira took a long breath and backed away from the window. Octavia became incensed. In a voice smoldering with hate and anger she said, “Push her Zahieel!”“It’s not her time! I cannot!”“You are bound, reaper!”Although she heard the entire conversation, Kabira didn’t even turn around. She straightened herself. She understood her fate. “May God forgive me,” she said, with all her heart.Zahieel pushed her. As soon as her body hit the ground, he rushed to her soul and threw it to the reaper assigned to her. Her reaper, Arawn shot Zahieel a confused look and cut her silver cord. Then, they were gone. “Follow them!” Octavia seethed.Zahieel went to the gates of Heaven first. He saw Kabira. “Thank you for giving me my freedom.” she said, bowing her head.Zahieel turned away and sighed. He returned to Octavia.

“You cost me that soul!” she yelled.“She was on Arawn’s list! She asked for forgiveness before her crossing! We are both powerless! You know this, Octavia!” Her cry of rage shook the ethers. She grabbed him by his neck and threw him with such force that he landed in a dimension he didn’t recognize. He was alone in a vast, barren field. The star-plastered sky filled with varying hues of indigos and reds seemed to intertwine with several dimensions. He couldn’t tell where any of it began or ended. All of a sudden, he felt a presence. He rolled his eyes and turned around expecting more venom from Octavia. Instead of Octavia, his real master, the Angel of Death loomed before him.“Zahieel, what have you done? You killed a human before their time! You know this is not our way!” The boom in his voice made the entire dimension shake and brought Zahieel to his knees.“Master, Octavia has bound me by contract to do her bidding. How did you not know?”“You fulfilled your duties. Your other activities with the exception of this infraction are no concern of mine.”“Can you help me?”“If she has bound you by contract, I cannot help you. I am not at liberty to break any contracts of any being, human or supernatural. Only an exorcist can free you.”“Can’t you command an exorcist to free me?”“No. The Natural Order must be maintained. If it is part of the Natural Order for you to be freed, you will be.”And then he was gone. Zahieel, for the first time in centuries became angry. He cursed his fate, his master, and Octavia. Then, he cursed himself for being ensnared by her in the first place. After a short time, Octavia’s screeching voice penetrated the ethers, and she summoned him back. “Enjoy your conversation with one of God’s lackeys?” she mocked.“Our contract does not include disclosing what I discuss with my master.”“You seem to forget that I am your master now.”“And you seem to forget that my contract as a reaper forbids me to disclose anything I discuss with my master. Remember the limits, Octavia.”“Remember yours, slave!”Then, she knocked him to the ground. He bowed his head and said nothing.For three more years, he did Octavia’s vile bidding. He tortured and killed. His rage tempered to sorrow. His role was to maintain the Natural Order, not to disrupt it, which he did over and over again. He rarely responded to Octavia, only enacted her commands. Meanwhile, Octavia set her sights on another gifted human. David could tap into other dimensions easily. In his visions, her would see places that he knew he never saw before. These images confused him when he saw them. Sometimes, he saw a gray, empty expanse of barreness. He saw smatterings of colors but didn’t know where they came from. Other times, he saw a tan and yellowish scene folding in on itself. It looked like stairs vibrating and moving up and down, like an accordian endlessly moving. He never felt fear. He just didn’t know what he was seeing. Still, he knew something was out of place. He was only just learning his power, but his trauma from suffering abuse from his father hindered him from realizing the extent of his gifts. It wasn’t physical abuse. It was mental. Even as a child, he was told he had to earn his food by completing household chores. When he became a successful, wealthy, adult who was a leader in business, his father still treated him coldly, not even offering one word of praise to him. Despite his father’s severity, David had an inner determination to prove him wrong. For all his success and gifts, David was already a tortured soul, making Octavia’s path to him easyThey enacted the hallmarks of their twisted partnership. Octavia’s menacing taunts combined with Zahieel’s physicality. Throwing objects. Making harsh noises. One day, David surprised them both. Zahieel tried to throw him, and David actually used his own will to throw him off. Zahieel had to steady himself, and his face contorted in confusion. Even Octavia was stunned, but she recovered quickly. She mimicked David’s father’s voice, which subdued him right away. Weeks later, they returned to David while he was in meditation. This time, Zahieel observed what was going on in David’s mind’s eye. He was looking at the Book of Solomon, at a page with a listing of the sacred symbols of other reapers. A smoldering calm overtook him. Now, he understood how Octavia retrieved his symbol. He broke David’s concentration before she could see what he was seeing. She looked at Zahieel suspiciously but said nothing. Zahieel’s quiet patience returned, but he still avoided interaction with Octavia if he could help it. He continued to bide his time paying close attention to David, making sure he didn’t accidentally give Octavia anymore sacred symbols. He watched Octavia closely, too, making sure she didn’t procure any other symbols from elsewhere. But she trusted no one, especially not Zahieel, so he could never really be sure. More weeks passed. Then, Zahieel witnessed a scene he never expected to see in his fifteen years with her. Octavia startled. They were in David’s home. It was beautiful with immaculately placed gray and black leather furniture against white walls. But always cold and with no emotion. Even the air was stifling and confining. On this night, the air was clear. First, Zahieel smelled sage. Then, frankincense. He heard Christian prayers. Next, he heard a voice commanding her to give him her name. She refused. At first, Zahieel only saw a human form, a young man with long hair and a booming voice. This presence confused him, and he didn’t know where his fate would lead him. When he looked deeper in the young man’s eyes, he saw compassion. Gazing deeper, he saw the man’s soul. Not an ordinary being, but an ancient. A soul similar in age to Octavia’s. One of the gatekeepers between worlds. Then, Zahieel realized this was the exorcist who would free him.The gatekeeper commanded again and again in the name of many Gods. She went for his throat but he swatted her arms away like he was swatting a fly. She commanded Zahieel to attack. When he lunged at the gatekeeper, he didn’t even move. Zahieel bounced off of him like a ball. The exorcist’s spiritual power and will subdued her. She resisted but was overcome. Finally, she had no choice but to give him her name. He demanded that she leave David’s body. The battle was over. She had no choice but to comply. After that, the exorcist asked Zahieel what he was doing there. He told him of the contract. Then, the exorcist freed him. Zahieel bowed, said thank you, and disappeared into the reaper realm.He summoned the other reapers. Millions assembled in the gray, desolate realm where nothing existed, only endless space. They were confused, at first because they rarely meet and converse. Zahieel told them of how he had been ensnared and to be on their guard. They bowed, nodded, and disappeared. Zahieel sighed deeply. His involuntary disruption of the Natural Order haunted him all the years of his contract with Octavia. Yet, with this act, he could help prevent others from disrupting it. Satisfied, he went back to work doing his part in maintaining the Natural Order.After all, the Natural Order must always be maintained.

We all have it in us to create magic in our lives every day. When we enjoy the sun in a blue sky. That’s magic. When we enjoy the laughter of our children. That’s magic. When we enjoy the possibility of what we can create, that’s the magic of life.

Possibility in the unknownFor a few months now, I have been talking about what it means to live in the unknown after completely changing my life around. I faced a lot of growing pains because there were times I was afraid. All kinds of questions swirled around my head. How is this going to work out? Shouldn’t I be moving faster? What steps should I take? Am I following the right steps?

These are questions anyone would have. That’s okay. But just focusing on those questions only leads to more uncertainty. Impossibility. When I focused on making a choice about what steps to take and then taking them, the possibility stayed. That’s when stepping into the unknown gets easier.

Belief in the impossibleLet’s go back to what’s impossible. We live with what’s impossible without a second thought. The sun is what keeps us alive, but if we get too close to it, it could kill us. How is it possible that a thing that could kill us is the primary reason we are alive? The planet and the creatures that comprise it are mostly water. We would die without it, but if we are surrounded by too much it could also kill us. It is gentle and strong at the same time. How is that possible? It just is. Although we don’t think about it all the time, we know it, and we continue living.

Proceeding with possibility and beliefThat’s what I keep doing. I keep living. Whether I am certain about my next moves or not, I keep going. Now, I don’t need to see evidence that every move I am making is the right one. I know that I continue to create opportunity and possibility, and I go from there. That’s the magic I use in creating my world.

"Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right." - Oprah Winfrey

I always seek opportunity. That’s exactly what I see a new year as. Opportunity to make the happiest life we can make for ourselves.

I also see it as a time to shine a spotlight on the blessings that we have. They aren’t hard to find. Waking up one more time is a blessing. Being supported by a universe that is wide and waiting for you to take what it has to offer is another blessing.

To start off this new year, instead of resolutions, let’s make affirmations. Affirmations that will put us on a strong path for 2019. All we have to do is believe them when we say them. Here are 10 gratitude affirmations to start the new year:

1. I appreciate all that has been, all that is, and all that is coming.

"Just as a snake sheds its skin, we must shed our past over and over again." - Buddha

2018Over the past few years, I have been in awe of how fast time passes. In 2016, I marveled at how I spent 10 years in a home that I only intended on spending 5 in, if that. At the end of 2018, I paused when I realized that 2 years have already passed since I moved to Georgia.

2018 has been a unique year for me, my deepest plunge into the unknown yet. For a lot of that year, I felt like someone who has woken up in the dark. I let my eyes adjust looking for some glimmer of light. Then, I felt around, making sure I kept my footing, afraid of falling and getting hurt.

Towards the end of the year, I snapped out of the uncertainty. I kicked in like I do when I'm driving through a tunnel. I hate driving through tunnels. I feel claustrophobic. Tunnels feel unnatural to me, and I can't wait to get the hell out of them. Before I get too panicky, I just calm myself with the knowledge that the tunnel will end quickly, and I will see the light. The tunnel walls won't close in, and I will be in the open air, again. With those thoughts, I cruise right through it. That's how I shot out of the cannon of my doubt. I knew it wouldn't last, and I pushed ahead, like I always do.

New year's reflectionsAs I enter this new year, I recognized that, in the midst of all my confusion, I learned myself even more. I became more sure of myself than I have ever been. I see myself more clearly now than I ever have before.

I have recognized habits and patterns that don't work for me anymore. I noticed that, when I start something new, I come from a place of not wanting to screw it up. Then, I remembered: the best results come from calm. I've seen that over and over again. The only thing anxiety produces is more anxiety.

Now, I come from a mindset of, no matter what the experience turns into, it's valuable. If whatever I do ends up exactly how I intended, that's great. If I make an error and have to self-correct, the lesson I learn is wonderful. I rid myself of the shame attached to making a mistake.

At the same time, I've learned to embrace aspects of me that do work. For me, one of those is my sharp and quick brain. I connect the dots before you even finish talking. I used to make fun of myself for that because it would lead me to be overly-analytical. Now, I am grateful for my agile mind. It's gotten me far.

2019As I head into 2019, I appreciate how much I have grown in darkness. So much was new for me, and I banged my head against the wall as I was sifting and sorting. I know now, I don't need to do that. Just like when I drive, I know I'll make it through any tunnel. I realized I don't need to look for the light because the light comes from within. That's what guides me and never fails me.

Christmas memoriesWe all have our Christmas memories. I remember waking up the entire household on Christmas morning and the look on my father’s face when I did that. Only now do I realize that inwardly he was seething because he was being woken up for a holiday that, as a Muslim, he didn’t celebrate. He never said one word because he and my mother lived and died for their kids and would suck up anything just to make them happy.

When I was old enough to comprehend that us being Muslim and not like everyone else in the town was okay, we stopped celebrating Christmas. Even though I stopped celebrating Christmas, I never stopped enjoying the festive spirit of the season. The lights, the decorations, the music. In the spirit of this beautiful time, I give you my 10 favorite Christmas songs:

1. "All I Want for Christmas is You" - Mariah CareyMariah Carey hit a homerun with this song. Her own distinctive voice shines through but reminds you of a 60’s girl group. It’s catchy as hell, too. My all-time favorite.

2. "This Christmas" - Donny HathawayDonny Hathaway sings about the anticipation of a special holiday with his angelic voice. The horns in the background add a special touch. It’s just a happy song.

3. "Let it Snow" - Boyz II MenThe harmonies of this classic R&B group are at their best in this song. They sing about the real joy of the season: being with the ones you love.

4. "Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy" - Bing Crosby and David BowieI love Bing Crosby’s baritone. His voice just had an ease to it. David Bowie almost didn’t sing on this track because he hated the original song. The composers on the TV special had to write “Peace on Earth” almost on the spot. Lucky for them, Bowie liked it. His understated modern vocal, coupled with the classic crooner’s old school vibe, made this duet a Christmas classic.

6. "Winter Wonderland" - Dean Martin Dean Martin’s easy breezy style took you back to childhood when you were excited by all the possibility a blanket of snow can bring.

7. "Put a Little Love in Your Heart" - Al Green and Annie LennoxThe title of this song says it all. “Put a little love in your heart/And the world will be a better place.” Al Green’s classic R&B stylings combined with Annie Lennox’s powerhouse vocal put a smile on my face every time.

8. "Christmas is the Time to Say I Love You" - Billy SquireThis rocker surprised us all with this sweet song. Since this was MTV’s video Christmas card to their viewers, the MTV kids got their own video Christmas memory.

9. "Jingle Bell Rock" - Hall and OatesHall and Oates updated this 50’s classic and made it their own by putting their Philly soul spin. And the video was a throwback to a Leave it to Beaverepisode.

10. "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town" - Bruce Springsteen Bruce Springsteen just had fun with this Christmas classic, and it was pretty clear. Clarence Clemons’ deep “better be good for goodness sake” and saxophone solo just made you want to sing along.

Books can transport us across times and worlds. They can put a microscope on our human experience and show us the good, bad and the ugly. At their best, books can empower us to be who we are and inspire us as to be the best version of ourselves we can be. No matter what part of the world you reside in, these books feature heroines who are ahead of their time and live beyond it. Now, here is my list of: Six Books that are Universally Feminist.

1. Jane Eyre by Charlotte BronteJane Eyre does not fit the mold of your typical Victorian heroine. She’s not beautiful, charming, or pleasing. She is strong, intelligent, and passionate. She will not allow her position in society dictate whether or not she is worthy of love and what type of life she should lead. She takes control of her life and keeps it.

2. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen Elizabeth Bennet is another Victorian heroine who lives her life according to her principles. Although she is beautiful, her intelligence and wit are what she leads with. She is more than a match for the haughty Mr. Darcy and makes him win her, instead of bowing to his will. She makes her decisions based on what she wants and not what she is told she should want.

3. An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir Laia, Helene and the Commandant are all powerful women in their niche of the dystopian and violent Martial Empire. They all possess single-minded determination to claim and protect what they want, all while negotiating and rising above their brutal reality.

4. A Torch Against the Night by Sabaa Tahir In the sequel toAn Ember in the Ashes, Laia, Helene, and the Commandant continue to relentlessly pursue what they want in their harsh society. Laia and Helene mature and assert their power in one life-threatening situation after another, while battling their male-dominated society. Even minor characters like Afya Nur and Mamie Rila are in control in their traditionally patriarchal society.

5. A Reaper at the Gates by Sabaa Tahir In this third installment of the An Ember in the Ashesseries, Laia, Helene, and the Commandant face higher stakes in the power struggles they engage in. Each woman has her own unique motivation in every tumultuous situation they encounter. Even when they are on shaky ground, they are all unbreakable.

6. Shaherazade's Daughters by Sameena K. MughalYes, this is mine, but it is universally feminist. This short story collection is a feminist homage to 1001 Arabian Nights and follows the journeys of 18 strong, intelligent, and independent women. They unapologetically flip traditional roles by being warriors, capable business women, and saving the men in their lives. Although not literally her daughters, they carry the legacy of the brave heroine from the original tales, Scheherazade.

Until next time… look behind and beyond the veil...

What books do you think should make the list? Share in the comments below!

"I know joy lives 'round the corner{Joy for sale down on the corner}(we sacrifice)"- Prince

YinWe all pay a price for something at different points in our lives. We pay money for our dream house, dream car, dream vacation, and others things we want. Sometimes, we give up some things for a greater goal or the greater good of others in our lives. Do we really have to give something away for happiness?

Is sacrifice really the price we pay for joy?Aren’t we shown that through example as we’re growing up? Our parents sacrifice for us. My parents never went to a fancy restaurant because they had 8 of us to feed. I understand that. When you choose to bring a life that is dependent upon you into your world, it’s a responsibility. You find ways to fulfill your responsibility.

The stories we read teach us that. Young girls, especially, are taught that. In the Cinderella fairy tale, Cinderella, essentially, allows herself to be victimized in order to be deserving of happiness in the end. How many stories depict a downtrodden woman who swallows inordinate amounts of bullshit to receive her reward in the end? Countless.

That I don't understand.

We are put on this earth to be happy. We don’t have to suffer to make ourselves worthy to be rewarded with happiness. It’s not a reward. It’s our due.

YangSacrifice for the greater good of others is noble. Soldiers do it all over the world everyday. Some people find joy in service to others. Some people have a dream they want to fulfill so they will put aside something they want in the moment because they know the vision they wish to achieve is grander than what they have given up. Accomplishing a lifelong goal will give you the ultimate satisfaction and joy.

But when we are manipulated or coerced into sacrifice, there’s no joy in that. When someone tells you to give up something you want because it will make them happy or “society” will approve, that’s not nobility. That’s control.

As with anything in life, there needs to be balance in sacrifice. Sometimes, there is joy is sacrifice. Other times, it’s only pain. Pain should never be the price of joy.

Ordinary bores me. I have never been interested in doing things the way everybody else does them. My whole life has been proof of that. Nontraditional, unsuitable Indian girl. Check. Not terribly religious Muslim girl. Check. Hold out for marriage until I know in my gut it’s the right person. Check.

So it’s no wonder I gravitate towards people who are eclectic. I like people who do things their way, no matter what anyone else says. Since I am a natural born rebel, I enjoy people who are natural born rebels. Today, I share with you 4 Of My Favorite Rebels:

1. Carrie Fisher - Not only was she a rebel princess on-screen, she was pretty badass off-screen. She was supremely witty and an excellent writer. She was never afraid to laugh at herself and share her wisdom. Although, I didn’t know her personally, I was sad when she crossed over. One less intelligent person in this world.

2. Joan of Arc - A French peasant girl who was a believer in her cause, she had no qualms going to royal court and telling the nobles what she was about. They were so impressed they gave her armor and a sword to fight the British, and she didn’t disappoint. She led key victories which led to victory for the French. Even when she was captured and eventually executed, she stayed true to her faith and free will.

3. Kishore Kumar - One of Bollywood’s most beloved playback singers, Kishore Kumar was a true artist and eccentric. He always had a disdain for the film industry and what he saw as its insincerity. He actually said that he preferred to talk trees rather than people. He once showed up on set with makeup on only half his face because the producer only paid half his fee. And he had a sign outside his house that read, “This is a lunatic asylum.”

4. Razia Sultana of Delhi - She was the only female ruler of the Delhi Sultanate in the 13th century. She was an educated woman at a time when Muslim women were not educated. She refused to dress like a woman, preferring men’s clothes. She also refused to wear the veil. She was an astute politician and military leader in a time when women remained secluded. Since the men around her resented a woman ruler, they constantly conspiring against her. She died the same way she lived, in battle.

"Some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go." - Herman Hesse

Every few months, I get in a mood to purge. I rearrange things. I get rid of things. I feel a lot lighter when I’m done.

I don’t just do that with physical objects. I do it mentally and emotionally, too. I get rid of thought patterns that don’t serve me. When I am feeling an emotion that doesn’t help me like fear or anger. I feel it, then let it go.

Not only does this make you lighter in spirit, it makes room for something better.

Letting go of stories that don't serve usWhen I first got my teaching degree, I interviewed for an English teacher position at the high school I graduated from. I was prepared and professionally dressed, all the things you’re supposed to before an interview. I was confident. Until, I saw someone I graduated with.

He was interviewing for the same position. We reminisced until it was time for his interview. He went in first. Immediately, I told myself he was better than me and would probably get the job.

I didn’t know anything about his education or his qualifications. That’s the story I told myself because it was the story I always told myself. Someone else always knew better or knew more than I did.

Needless to say, the interview didn’t go that well. The vibe in the room wasn’t great, either. The principal was a condescending prick who I saw looking out the window as I was answering one of his questions. He seemed bored out of his mind. That didn’t help.

I left that interview knowing I didn’t get it. It wasn’t meant for me, and I probably wouldn’t have gotten along with the condescending prick anyway. But I didn’t give myself a chance, so how could I expect the people in that room to give me one?

Never again, I told myself. Never again do I convince myself someone else is better than me.

I let that story go.

A better storyMy new story became: I am no less than anyone. I am just as good as anyone else.

Which is how I landed in a job that I stayed in for 14 years in a school district I that I slid into through a back door.

I heard about the job through a former colleague. I knew it was a great district, and I just interviewed without any preconceived thoughts or judgments.

I got the job, and it was one of the most unique interview experiences I ever had. I was basically told in the first interview I had the job. That almost never happens in teaching interviews.

EvolutionThat was the beginning of the most transformative work experience I ever had. I perfected my craft. I challenged myself. Others challenged me. These challenges taught me the delicate balance of standing in your truth and not devoting too much energy to things that don’t matter in the big picture.

In the beginning, I must say I didn’t meet the challenges in the most productive way. Without meaning to, I had my guard up and was always on the lookout for mistakes. That led to being overly concerned with others perceiving if I had made a mistake and if I would be judged for it.

I had to let that guard down. I let go of the minor irritations that came from having my guard up. Of course, little bumps came that were upsetting, but I felt what I needed to feel but, let it go.

In letting my guard down, I made room for an openness that led me to opportunities for new friendships with colleagues and overall better work relationships. That openness expanded to other areas of my life and brought opportunities that I never imagined. It made my constant evolution possible.

This process never ends. You let go of what needs to be let go of to allow for the next best thing. And you keep letting go and keep allowing for the best.

Out of AfricaWhen my mother first came to this country from Africa in 1972 and saw her first snowfall, she cried. She came from a place where she could pick starfruit and mango from trees within walking distance of her home. From that, she went to cold, no fruit trees, and this white stuff that she had never seen before falling on the ground to only make it colder. However, within a short time, she shook it all off and did the best she could for her family. While instilling traditional South Asian values in us, she began the process of creating traditions the way only mothers can to make sure her children could live and be happy in a new country.

Cooking American cuisineOf course, this involved food, and she learned how to cook American dishes. She would find recipes in newspapers and magazines and try them out. She would incorporate Indian flavors into her sauces for pasta dishes. That didn’t always work out because, sometimes she would put too much cayenne pepper into the sauce, which would elicit collective groans from me and my siblings.

Thanksgiving do's and don'tsHowever, a meal she rocked as far as I can remember was the Thanksgiving meal. She never made a turkey before she came to this country, but I think she just applied principles of roasting a chicken to turkey. She never learned how to make stuffing from scratch, so Stove Top is a staple in our Thanksgiving meal. One year, my sister-in-law tried a new recipe and brought it for dinner. It was good, but it still didn’t go over well. One of my other brothers grumbled because he didn’t have his Stove Top.

The other staple of our meal was jellied cranberry sauce, my food nemesis alongside applesauce. To this day, it is the oddest food I’ve ever seen in my life. When you take it out of the can, the cranberry sauce is shaped like the can and has its grooves molded onto it. My oldest brother loved it. I would never touch it and didn’t know until I was an adult that you could actually make it with fresh cranberries. My mother also learned various desserts like pumpkin pie and apple pie. Over the years, my sisters and I started making the sides and desserts. But for years, she cooked by herself or split responsibilities with my aunt.

Mughal ThanksgivingMy mother and aunt created our Thanksgiving tradition together. For years, we would alternate which house would host the Thanksgiving meal. We loved just being together to eat, watch football and have loud conversations.

Our tradition may have changed over the years, but the memories we created will always remain. I admire what my mother and aunt did. Despite being plopped down in a new country, they found their strength and learned a new culture and tradition for their children.

What are some of your Thanksgiving traditions? Share in the comments below!